I watched two people fall in love
by JxTina
Summary: And one of them was you. SLASH. ONE-SHOT.


Told in 2nd person. All I will say is the 'you' is Randy. Make your own mind up on who the other two are.

**WARNING:** Slash

**DISCLAIMER 1:** I don't own Randy Orton or anyone else from the WWE.

**DISCLAIMER 2:** The title and summary of this story come from the song _I watched two people_ by Fascinating Aida. It is one of the most beautiful, emotion and heart-breaking songs I have ever listened to. Youtube it. And if the mood takes you, watch some of their other songs that are far more upbeat, rude and hilarious.

Hope you like x

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><p>The afternoon sun is slowly starting to set as we cruise along the highway. The red, orange and pink stretches across the desolate landscape, casting long, fuzzy shadows over everything in reach. I pull the sun visor down and push my sunglasses up onto my head. I shuffle in my seat and inch further down, stretching out one leg, whilst keeping the pressure on the gas pedal steady with the other. I rest my elbow against the side window and cup my chin with my hand.<p>

We're still a few hours away from the next hotel. And I'm starting to wonder why I ever suggested road-tripping these couple of shows. We rarely managed to drag our bodies from the bed early enough to get a head start on the day's driving. Throw a work out into the mix and we rarely left before lunch. We rolled up to the arena's with only an hour or so to spare, our attempts to sneak in unnoticed rarely succeeded. Not that we cared – who cares about getting caught when you're so wrapped up in each other's presence, emotions, bodies?

Funny how that changed so quickly.

I chance a look over at you for the first time since we left this morning. You pushed your seat back as far as it will go and reclined to an almost horizontal position, allowing you to stretch out as much as possible. I used to find it amusing how you could fall asleep anywhere – in a cab, in a car, on the coach crammed full of our colleagues, on a plane. Now I envy you. If you were driving, I would be doing my best to sleep, to shut down my mind for a few hours and failing miserably.

But if it was you driving this stretch of the journey, I would be struggling to put my mind to rest for completely different reasons.

It was my idea. You were quite happy to stay in the hotel room, wrap ourselves around each other, watch a movie, drink the mini-bar dry, have our own party. But no, I insisted. I rummaged in your bag, threw you a clean shirt and a pair of jeans and told you to get your ass out of bed. You rolled your eyes, grumbled, but eventually managed to haul your limbs from the sheets and dress. But not before you joined me in the shower. Your mouth doing it's best to keep me in that hotel room, or rather in the shower cubicle. I can still remember the feeling of the cool tiles against my back, your fingers digging into my thighs as your mouth devoured my length.

I almost gave into you. I should have let you entice me back into bed. But no, I pulled away from you, told you to get dressed once again.

You twitch in your sleep, cough, sigh and let your head roll from one side to the other. I tear my gaze away and return to watching the road.

The bar was crowded when we arrived. Your hand moved from holding mine to my waist and then slowly up until your arm was wrapped around my shoulders. In the darkness, you pressed a chaste kiss to my neck, my temple. You whispered things I couldn't hear – all I could sense was your warm breath tickling my ear.

And then we spotted the others and parted ways. I watched as your clapped your hand against people's backs, as you chatted animatedly. I queued at the bar, bought us drinks. I remember turning away from you for a second and when I looked back you were gone. I pushed my way through the crowd, straining my eyes in the darkness to spot you.

I only saw you when the lights that were swivelling on their axis above us, glanced off the booths at the back of the room. You were in deep conversation with someone I couldn't quite make out. But I could see your face – your mouth moving quickly, your eyes wide, your gaze attentive. Your hand moved to the back of your neck, scratching at an incessant itch. A raised eyebrow and then your lips stretched into a wide grin that turned into a laugh.

Maybe then I should have made my way over to you, whispered in your ear. Taken your hand and pulled you out of the bar, back to the hotel. You would have mumbled something about my inability to make up my mind, but your complaining would have ceased pretty quickly.

But no, I stayed where I was. I watched you from a distance. I watched you push your sleeve up your arm, hold it out exposed and then I saw the hand emerge from the shadow, the fingers dance across your skin for a second. I watched as you leant back, rolled up your other sleeve and crossed your arms, flexing your muscles casually.

I realise that my hand is gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles have turned white and my arm is shaking. I take a deep breath and when I exhale, a small noise escapes – a sort of groan, a choked gasp, an almost cry of pain.

I drank my drink. And then drank yours too. I couldn't bring myself to approach you anymore. I was rooted to the spot, transfixed by what was happening right in front of me. You ran your hand over your head, chuckling. You rubbed your thigh as your brow furrowed as you listened intently to what was being said. Your bottomed lip protruded ever so slightly as your nodded slowly.

And then he leaned forward into the light.

I saw his smile.

I saw the flicker of fingers against yours.

I saw your eyes shine as he gazed at you.

You sigh again in your sleep. I wonder what you're dreaming of. If it's me, or someone else. The same question kept me awake until the early hours. That and the constant replay, the million of other questions I had no answers to. Questions that I'm still no closer to finding answers for.

You asked me where I'd been all night as we made our way back to the hotel. I lied.

I asked you the same question. And you looked me straight in the eye and lied too.

You reached over, cupped the back of my neck and drew me towards you. I let you kiss me. In fact, I melted into your arms. All I wanted was to feel you. I wanted to believe so much that it was me you wanted, no-one else. I didn't want to believe anything else – I wanted to forget what I had seen, what I had felt.

I let you push me back onto the bed. You crawled over me, kissing me feverishly, your hands pulling up my shirt, pushing down my pants. Your hand gripped my already-hard cock, tugged it gently at first and then harder as I hissed against your neck. You moved lower, your tongue dipping into my navel before licking a path to my groin. Your teeth nipped the inside of my thighs, as your hands toyed with my length, teasing me incessantly.

But despite the sensory overload, I couldn't block the evening's events from my mind. Even as you sucked me into oblivion, I was still debating if what I saw was real or just my imagination. And as you sheathed yourself inside me, making me moan your name over and over again, behind my closed eyes I was replaying those tiny touches, those looks, those smiles.

You grunt next to me and I glance over once again. Your eyes flicker open.

And in that one look, where confusion passes over your features, followed by shock, guilt and realisation, you confirm my worst fears.

Last night I watched you fall out of love with me.

And fall in love with someone else.


End file.
